


Bernie and Serena go on holiday.

by helenlath



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24271180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenlath/pseuds/helenlath
Summary: Since Bernie's release from captivity and her reunion with Serena the couple have been living together in Cornwall. Serena has been working as a locum. When Bernie's military contract comes to an end Serena decides that the two of them need a holiday.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 21
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou for the kind comments and kudos left on Moving Onward. I intended to leave Serena and Bernie at that point, but I've missed my weekly tryst with the pair. After a week working on more serious projects, it's lovely to escape into the world of Berena. So here is a little story, with a bit of emotion and just a hint of passion, but mainly light-hearted. Hope you enjoy.

“I think that we need a holiday,” Serena said, putting down her magazine and looking at Bernie over the top of her reading glasses.  
“That would be lovely,” replied Bernie wistfully, “but can we afford it? I’m no longer working and you don’t have a permanent job. Would it be sensible?”  
“Bernie, I’m tired of being sensible. Being sensible put all that we mean to one another in jeopardy, even your life.”  
“You weren’t sensible in the end though were you?” Bernie gazed at Serena, love shining from her eyes.  
“BMH Nairobi wouldn’t have been my career move of choice I admit but love does the strangest things. I think I knew deep down that you were still out there.”  
Bernie moved closer. “Do I still taste like chocolate and, what was it? Vanilla or honey?”  
“Come over here and let me check.”  
Bernie moved from the battered armchair where she had been sitting with her legs curled beneath her. Serena was on the sofa. She lay back in the cushions and opened her arms to welcome Serena.  
Bernie’s traumatic experience as a hostage in Somalia, Serena’s resignation from her post at Holby City and uncharacteristic flight to Nairobi, their resulting reunion in the Somalian desert, was the stuff of fiction. Since then they had been getting to know one another all over again in a rented Cottage in Cornwall while Bernie worked out her time at a desk job on a base in Truro while Serena worked as a locum in Falmouth Hospital. Bernie had come to the end of her service, which is what prompted Serena’s suggestion of a holiday.  
Satisfied that Bernie’s lips still tasted as delicious as ever, Serena returned to the subject of a holiday. “It doesn’t have to be an expensive holiday, darling. Just somewhere with sun, sea and decent Shiraz.”  
“We could go camping,” suggested Bernie brightly. “Marcus and I used to take Charlotte and Cameron camping in Norfolk.”  
“Berenice Wolfe, I have never been camping in my life and I am not about to start now!”  
“I think you’ve forgotten that tent in Somalia!” Bernie whispered.  
“I have not, darling, I will take the memories to my grave, but wonderful as those memories are, it was not a holiday! I don’t mind settling for a budget holiday, but I do insist on a proper bed!”  
Two evenings later Serena arrived home from the hospital to find Bernie waiting for her in the front garden, glass of Shiraz in her hand. She handed it to Serena and picked up her own can of Staropramen from the door step.  
“I’ve got a surprise,” she sang, come and see.” She took Serena by the hand and led her along the gravel drive which ran along the side if the cottage. “Close your eyes,” she commanded.  
“I’ll spill my wine,” Serena complained.  
“Give it to me then.” Bernie took Serena’s glass. “Now put your arms around my waist, close your eyes and follow me.” A drink in each hand, Serena holding on to her, Bernie shuffled around the corner of the cottage.  
“Ta Da, open your eyes,” she cried. Serena did as Bernie commanded.  
“Goodness me, Bernie, where did that come from.”  
“I bought it.”  
“Bought it! How?”  
“I had some savings and I have my contacts,” Bernie said, “also I know a bit motor vehicles as you know, and this seems in good condition. So let’s drink to our holiday, it’s going to be such fun.” She handed Serena the glass of Shiraz and raised her own bottle. “Here’s to us, our holiday in our very own camper van.”

“You do like it, don’t you?” Bernie asked over supper. “It has a proper double bed and a loo so we won’t have to trail across to the toilets in the middle of the night.”  
“Most important for two menopausal women,” Serena commented drily.  
“That’s exactly what I thought. Come and see inside.” Bernie grabbed Serena’s hand excitedly and dragged her towards the van. “Here’s the stove, here’s the sink, and underneath is the fridge. So compact.”  
“Small.”  
“Alright, small. But look Serena, these seats slide together to form a proper bed.” Bernie demonstrated the creation of the bed, then flung herself down on the cushions.  
“It’s really very comfortable, come and try it.” Giggling, Serena did just that.

“I’ve booked four weeks leave,” Serena said the following evening, “starting next Friday. Now where are we going to go in this marvellous van of yours?”  
“Somewhere warm. Do you think that we could get as far as Italy? These old VWs don’t go particularly fast.” Bernie frowned. “We don’t wasn’t to spend all our time on the road, do we?”  
“I’m sure that Italy is feasible,” Serena reassured her. “Edward and I once drove to The Lakes with Elinor in tow. It was fine.”  
“But a camper van won’t go as quickly as a flash BMW or whatever car you had.”  
“I admit that it was a BMW. But heavens, Bernie, this van is German too. You said yourself that it’s in good condition. It’s a VW, Vorsprung durch Technik and all that. Oh Bernie, La Belle Italia! I can’t wait for us to have our own Thelma and Louise adventure.”  
“Isn’t this wonderful,” Serena marvelled two weeks later as she and Bernie sat under a cloudless sky. They had travelled through France, tasting champagne in Rheims, along the aptly named Romantische Strasse in Southern Germany, though Serena had told Bernie that the name derived from Roman occupation of the area rather than it’s penchant for romance, taken in Verona and Florence and were now parked up in a grove of olives in Tuscany.  
“Isn’t this divine?” Serena said, savouring the first glass of wine that evening. She sat in one of the van’s two collapsible chairs while Bernie lay at her feet on a raffia mat, squinting at the sun as it filtered between the olive branches.  
“Yes,” she replied lazily. “I’m hungry, Serena.”  
The young lady on reception recommended an agriturismo with an excellent restaurant five or six kilometres away. We could ask her to ring for a taxi. I think you have done enough driving for one day and I would like to drink some more of this Syrah.”  
“Signore, welcome.” A rather good looking waiter greeted them with a wide smile.  
“Good evening,” replied Serena in a sultry tone, “a table for two please. On the terrace if that is possible.”  
They were seated the terrace overlooking the valley, a canopy of vine leaves above their heads. A jacaranda tree nearby scented the evening air.  
The waiter, who introduced himself as Gino, handed them menus.  
“May I recommend the cacciatore,” he said. Serena smiled. Gino was extremely attentive throughout the meal. “The wonderful thing about Italian men,” remarked Serena, “is that they know how to treat a woman whatever her age.”  
“Really,” remarked Bernie sourly.  
“Where are you two beautiful ladies staying?” Gino asked.  
“In the village,” Serena replied.  
“We are camping,” Bernie growled. Gino looked surprised. He took Serena’s hand and kissed it, saying, “You are far too elegant to be camping.” Serena giggled.  
“In a camper van, not a tent,” Bernie growled again. Gino ignored Bernie.  
“What you need now,” he said to Serena, “is Limoncello. Just a moment please.”  
“I can’t abide waiters who don’t leave one in peace,” grumbled Bernie.  
Gino reappeared with a bottle of the yellow digestif. He poured a small glass for Serena,  
“for you, mia Bellisima.” Bernie snorted.  
“No thankyou,” she declined the Limoncello. “I’d rather have a whisky.”  
“Certainly madam,” Gino replied formally.  
“Bernie, for goodness sake, why are you speaking so sharply to Gino?” Serena asked.  
“If you don’t know, then I can’t be bothered to tell you. Enjoy your Limoncello. And cancel the whisky.  
Bernie stormed off into the night, leaving Serena on the terrace swirling the yellow liquor around her “She’ll be back in five minutes,” she told herself “with those big, brown apologetic eyes, and I’ll forgive her in heartbeat.”  
Five minutes became ten, then fifteen. Serena gestured to be brought the bill. Gino reappeared. “Ah, you are alone, beautiful lady. Where is your friend?”  
“I hope she has gone home,” Serena replied, “at least back to our camper van, our little holiday home on wheels.”  
“She is tired?”  
“No, angry.”  
“But why should she be angry with you, beautiful Serena?” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. She snatched her hand away. “No Gino, you, mustn’t. That’s why Bernie has gone. She jealous.”  
“Jealous of you, that I pay you too much attention?”  
“Something like that,” she was too tired to explain. There was no need, however, for the distress in her face was clearly not the result of a little competition between friends.  
“Ah, you two are, more than friend?”  
“Very much so.”  
“Then we must find her. Come.”  
Gino led her to his car, a low-slung Italian saloon. Serena remembered the number of times she had exhorted Elinor never to get into a car with a man she didn’t know. Yet Bernie was her priority.  
Gino was used to these mountain roads and took the bends at a far greater speed than Serena liked. She closed her eyes on more than one occasion. Her ordeal did not last for long. After only ten minutes of so they saw a figure in the distance trudging along the road. Gino slowed as they approached. Serena wound down her window and shouted,  
“Get in, you stupid woman.” Bernie recognised that she was in no mood to be disobeyed. Angry Serena was a force to be reckoned with. Bernie stubbed out a cigarette on the tarmac before climbing into the back of the car.  
“I thought you had given up that habit,” Serena continued, “it’s bad for your health.”  
“I needed one,” Bernie replied sulkily.  
“Ladies, please,” Gino intervened, “I drive you back to your camper van, you can continue your argument there. I need to concentrate.”  
“Now Bernie, what was all that about?” Serena’s tone was gentle now that she had Bernie safely back in the van. Bernie shrugged in the manner of a sulky schoolgirl. Serena was momentarily enraged; then she remembered Elinor’s teenaged petulance and how it was usually induced by fear, and her own unforgiveable treatment of Bernie after Elinor’s death. Whatever it was that had caused Bernie to storm off in such a dramatic way, she, Serena, would gently discover. She sat down on the already made up bed and put her arm around Bernie’s shoulders.  
“Darling, I have quite clearly done something to upset you. Please tell me.”  
Bernie sniffed. “Do you fancy Gino, more than me?”  
“What makes you ask that?”  
“You were flirting with him.”  
“Darling, I’m a flirt, always have been. He’s a very attractive man.”  
“That’s what scares me.”  
“Explain.” Bernie took a deep breath.  
“When I fell in love with you, I’d known for quite a while that I was gay whereas you had given no thought to the matter. When I kissed you that first time, it was an impulse; I never dreamt that you would respond as you did. That’s the reason I first ran off to Kiev, I tried to explain. I thought that maybe you were confusing friendship with love, that any physical attraction you had for me was just a crush, that it wouldn’t last, you would soon realise you wanted a man. Deep down I still can’t believe that you really want to be with me. When I saw you laughing and flirting with Gino, I felt scared, so I ran, like I always do.”  
“Oh my darling, what an idiot you are. Listen to me, Berenice Wolfe.” Serena adopted a more severe tone. “Until I met you I had never fallen in love with a woman. That is fact. I am a flirt, I like people, men and women, and I respond to their attentions. Whether I was with you, or with a man I would still have had fun flirting with Gino. But that is all. I am not looking for anyone else, irrespective of gender to spend the rest of my life with. I love you. You are my soulmate. The love of my life, do you understand?”  
“Yes. I’m sorry. I love you, Serena, so, so much.”  
Serena turned her back towards Bernie. “Unzip my dress,” she commanded. Bernie did as Serena ordered. Serena allowed the dress to fall to the floor, faced Bernie again and drew closer to her until she stood between Bernie’s legs. Bernie wrapped her arms around Serena’s waist and buried her face in Serena’s suntanned belly. Serena dropped a kiss on top of Bernie’s head. “Let’s get into bed,” she crooned, “and I’ll show you just how much I fancy you as well as love you.”

They were woken early by the Mediterranean sun streaming in through the sunroof.  
“Blast, we forgot to pull the blind across,” muttered Bernie. They in one another’s arms, legs entwined, faces close.  
“We had other things on our minds,” said Serena seductively. “It’s true isn’t it, that the wonderful thing about falling out is making up afterwards.”  
“Absolutely,” agreed Bernie, nuzzling Serena’s neck.  
“You do know now just how much you mean to me, don’t you?” asked Serena, “I don’t know how else to convince you.”  
“Marry me,” said Bernie.  
“What!” gasped Serena.  
“I said, marry me. Please.”

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie has asked Serena to marry her. Taken by surprise, Serena says she will give Bernie her answer over dinner in the evening. Meanwhile, to fill the hours they hike to a medieval chapel. The walk gives them some opportunity to discuss their future, until their medical skills are suddenly called upon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou to everyone who has shown appreciation by leaving comments and kudos.  
> After a somewhat less than productive week writing a bit more of my novel I have spent this morning having fun writing a second installment to Bernie and Serena's holiday.  
> Some of you mentioned Tom the Cat. I promise I'll rescue him from Jason and bring him home to Serena eventually. They might have to have another adventure or two in Italy though before driving back to Calais.

For once Serena floundered for an appropriate response. She had, over the years of their erratic relationship, more than once imagined such a scenario, or indeed the converse, where she had plucked up the courage to utter the same words to Bernie. Now, hearing them fall in reality from Bernie’s lips, any imagined responses took flight. Instead she heard herself asking the most idiotic question, “Why?”  
Bernie looked hurt. “If you don’t know why, then you obviously didn’t understand anything I said last night. Or else you understood but don’t feel the same way.” She rolled away from Serena and lay on her back, focusing on the Perspex sunroof above.  
Serena sat up and leant against the pillows. “Bernie, stop that.” She spoke sharply. “Darling, I understood perfectly; your little sulk over Gino was caused by your  
insecurity. However, I thought that I had convinced you last night that you are the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with. My question about how else to convince you was purely rhetorical. I really wasn’t expecting an answer, let alone a proposal. Not that I haven’t thought about it.”  
“Have you really?” Bernie’s face lit up. Serena felt full of tenderness.  
“I have. Even so, I wasn’t expecting a proposal at eight o’clock in the morning, with bed hair and morning breath. I rather imagined a candlelit dinner on a moonlit night.  
“We can do that later. I’ll propose again. You will say yes, though won’t you?”  
Serena burrowed down in the bed and leant over Bernie.  
“You’ll have to wait and see, Darling,” she teased, before rolling on top of Bernie.  
“Oh my goodness,” Bernie moaned, “I do fucking love you, Serena Campbell.”  
“And I love fucking you, “murmured Serena, easing a hand between Bernie’s legs. 

By the time the pair emerged from the van the Mediterranean warmth was building up rapidly.  
“How shall we spend the day?” Bernie asked.  
“What would you like to do? No, not that,” Serena scolded as Bernie raised her eyebrows suggestively.  
“Something else active in that case,” said Bernie. “I really can’t lie in the sun all day dwelling on what your answer will be tonight.”  
“There is a rather beautiful chapel not so far away,” Serena told her. “The guide book says it was lived in by a hermit. It’s at the bottom of a gorge, about an hour’s walk, a bit longer to walk back as it will be uphill.”  
“Whatever makes you happy will make me happy too, my love,” Bernie replied. 

The Hermitage of San Bartholomew stood on a craggy ledge towards the bottom of a deep river gorge. “San Bartholomew is celebrated in the Roman Catholic Church as a miracle worker, famed for curing headaches, convulsions, paralysis, epilepsy and mental health,” Serena informed Bernie.  
“Quite a guy, then.”  
They had parked the camper van in the gravel car park at the start of the walk. Bernie was pleased to see on the far side a bar advertising Moretti beer. Serena caught her glance.  
“Not yet. We have water with us. You can have beer when we get back.” Bernie saluted.  
“Okay,” she replied cheerfully. “Lead on Sergeant Campbell.”  
They set off hand in hand along a rough mule track lined with silver blue erygnum. Humming bird moths darted from flower to flower and birds of prey wheeled across the blue sky. Only the chirruping of cicadas disturbed the peace.  
“This is perfect,” murmured Bernie.  
“Bernie, “Serena began hesitantly “we haven’t really talked about what we are both going to do in the future, have we?”  
“Haven’t we? But I thought...” Bernie sounded anxious.  
“I don’t mean about us,” Serena reassured her. “I mean about work.”  
“I haven’t really thought,” admitted Bernie. “I’ve just been concentrating on getting to the end of my commission and being with you.”  
The track now took them across a shady fern field. The brackens brushed against their legs. Serena stopped to point out the curly head of a young shoot.  
“It’s called a fiddle head,” she said instructively. “The Italians eat them. They are a culinary delicacy. They have to be cooked well, otherwise they are poisonous.”  
“Fascinating,” replied Bernie. They had by now reached the head of the gorge which meant descending a forty six step vertical staircase carved into the rock with only a frail handrail for security. Bernie took it in her stride. Serena put her hand on the rail and felt it give a little as she pressed her weigh against it. She hesitated. “It’s an awfully long way to fall, “she whispered.  
“We don’t have to go down if you’d rather not.”  
“Nonsense,” Serena adopted her usual brisk, no nonsense tone. “We have come all this way to see the chapel, we are not turning back now. It might look frightening but I am sure it is perfectly safe, otherwise there would be a warning sign. You go first.”  
Bernie grasped the handrail and took the first step. Serena followed closely behind.  
Between the bottom of the steps and the chapel, which perched on a ledge overhanging the river, was a wooden bench. The pair sat down to catch their breath and gaze at the view of the River Lavino below.  
“Returning to what I said earlier,” Serena ventured, "about work. I needed to take a break after Holby. I was burnt out professionally and emotionally. Since then I have really appreciated the freedom from responsibility that being a locum has given me. However, there are still a good few years in me yet and if I’m honest, I don’t really want to waste them in a job I could do standing on my head. I’m ready for a challenge. Yet I don’t want to return to how it was at Holby, constantly working such long hours with no time to invest in us.”  
“I don’t want that for you either. Or for me.” Bernie replied earnestly.  
“It’s a quandary. Tell me Bernie, when were truly at your happiest, aside from Iraq and Afghanistan?” Bernie gazed into the distance, recollecting the phases of her career, before admitting shyly,  
“It was when we ran AAU together.” Serena felt a rush of tenderness.  
“We made a good team, didn’t we?”  
They remained contentedly seated side by side mesmerised by the eddies of water around the rocks below. Suddenly from upstream first one, then another, and then another kayak appeared from around the bend in the river, expertly steered into the V of the current between the protruding rocks.  
“That looks fun,” Bernie remarked. “I wonder if we can hire kayaks nearby.” At that moment a fourth boat shot around the bend. Missing the V, the kayak was taken up by the white water of the rapid. Caught off guard, the occupant, a teenaged boy, seemed unable to steady the craft, which overturned. Bernie and Serena watched as the boy bobbed up alongside his kayak. All seemed well, until he was caught off balance, caught up in the current and dashed against the rocks. Serena and Bernie simultaneously jumped to their feet and scrambled down the side of the ravine unaware of the brambles tearing at their legs. By the time they reached the water’s edge the boy had managed to cling to an overhanging branch and pull himself onto a flat outcrop.  
“Can you swim?” Bernie asked Serena,”Funny that I’ve never asked you that before.”  
“Junior freestyle champion at my school!” Serena smirked. The pair waded downstream to where the boy lay.  
“Mi fa male la gamba,” he moaned. "His leg hurts," translated Serena.  
“We are doctors,” Bernie told him.  
“Noi siamo dottori,” Serena reiterated.  
Bernie rolled her eyes before gently feeling the boy’s leg beneath the material of his wet suit. Out of her pocket she pulled a Swiss army knife. "Always prepared," she said, opening the blade. Serena held the leg steady while Bernie sliced up the neoprene trouser leg. She gently felt the boy’s leg beneath the knee, detecting a slight grating as she did so. “It’s a break,” she said to Serena, who joined her to feel the boy’s ankle pulse. She gently pinched the skin around the break until the flesh turned white then released the pressure and checked to see how long the area filled up again with blood. “Slow capillary refill,” she said seriously. “There could be injury to a blood vessel. Meanwhile the boy began to vomit. The two women rolled him as gently as they could onto his side.  
“There is likely to be concussion too", Bernie said, “His head took heck of a blow on those rocks. He needs a hospital. Do you know the emergency number?”  
“One one two.” Serena pulled out her phone.”Blast. No signal. I’ll have to climb  
back up the gorge until I get one.”  
“Please take care,” Bernie begged. She would go herself, but knew that Serena was far more capable of explaining the situation and location in Italian then she herself was.”  
“I’ll be fine,” Serena assured her, giving her a swift kiss. “You look after this young man.”  
Bernie watched her for a few seconds before turning her attentions to her patient.  
“You have a nasty break, but I am going to look after you until help arrives.” She cast her eyes around for two suitably straight and strong branches. Then she removed her belt.  
“Your name?”she asked. “Nome?”  
“Carlo.”  
“Okay Carlo, I’m going to splint your leg to prevent further injury to the muscle and blood supply.” She doubted that Carlo understood what she said but he was soothed by her competent tone. She gently laid the branches along either side of his leg and secured them with her belt. The splint complete she continued to talk to the boy. She held up one finger. “How many?” she asked “Uno? Due?”  
Meanwhile Serena had scrambled up the side of the gorge and was hauling herself up the stone staircase, wondering just how far she would need to go before her phone picked up a signal. At last she reached the top of the steps and the little triangle appeared at the top of the screen. Giving thanks to a God she didn’t believe in she dialled the emergency number, grateful that after Kenya Bernie had persuaded her to download the What3words app.  
“Ambulanza rapidamente per favour,” she requested before supplying the three location words. 

Bernie scanned the skies anxiously. The nearest hospital was probably in Pescara, only thirty odd miles away. Once Serena had managed to raise the alarm it would not take long for the air ambulance to scramble and fly the short distance. Meanwhile she continued to talk to Carlo about her own experience Kayaking on army expeditions. Before long she heard the rumble of the air ambulance. She stood up, pulled off her polo shirt and waved it in the air. She watched and waited as two paramedics and a stretcher were lowered to the ground, reassured Carlo as he was strapped onto the stretcher and waved him goodbye when he swung gently into the air.  
“You come to Pescara with us?” one of the paramedics asked.  
“No thank you,” Bernie said, “I’ve got to get back to my fiancée.”

Serena debated whether to wait for Bernie at the top of the steps, eventually deciding that no, they had come to see the chapel, and see the chapel they would.  
Taking a deep breath she descended into the gorge for a second time. 

Bernie scrambled up the embankment. At the top she pushed her fringe out of her eyes. With a rush of love she saw Serena sitting on the bench. Serena rose to greet her. They embraced tightly, before their lips met.  
“I wasn’t banking on that little escapade,” remarked Serena, breaking the kiss.  
“Me neither.”  
“I had to climb to the top of the steps to get a signal. How is the boy?”  
“He’ll be fine. You came all the way back down the steps for me?”  
“To see the chapel. Come on.” Serena took Bernie’s hand and dragged her towards the door. 

On the wall above the ancient door was painted a medieval fresco, the once vivid colours faded now. “It’s still beautiful isn’t it? breathed Serena, pushing open the door into the dimly lit chapel. The whitewashed walls were unadorned save for a painting of the Madonna. Just inside the door was a restorative spring gushing out of the wall into a drainage channel. Two oak chairs stood beside it; upon one stood a metal cup and ladle. They both sipped the metallic water.  
Above the simple altar stood a wooden statue of Saint Bartholomew. In the silence, Serena whispered “Of course, I’m not at all religious and if we were to get married, it wouldn’t be in any sort of church. But just supposing we were to get married in a church, I would choose somewhere simple like this.” Bernie, standing beside her, squeezed her hand and lightly pressed a kiss on her lips. “Does the mean yes,” she whispered.  
“Wait! I won’t be done out of my candlelit dinner.” Serena whispered back.

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a surprise marriage proposal, Serena is keeping Bernie waiting for a reply. Will she won'tshesay "Yes".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou for your appreciative comments and for leaving kudos. I've managed to write another little chapter before the weekend. I'll possibly post a bit more before Sunday evening. I'm having great fun writing this, so hope you are continuing to enjoy.
> 
> I have just posted Chapter 4 and realised that only half of Chapter 3 was posted - apologies. If you felt it ended abruptly, that's the reason. Please re-read as it leads nicely into Chapter 4

“I’m knackered,” exclaimed Bernie when they finally reached the car park. “Can I have a beer now?”  
“You’re knackered!” Serena retorted. “I’ve been up and down that staircase twice without the benefit of your army training!”  
“I’m not as fit as I was,” said Bernie, flexing her biceps. “Almost a year in a ten by ten feet hut followed by six months at a desk job, I really need to up my sessions at the gym. Why don’t you join me when we get home?”  
“No thank you,” replied Serena tersely. “I’ll stick to my weekly swim thank you very much. Besides, you look fit enough to me.” She gave a flirtatious look which still, after all this time, caused Bernie’s stomach to somersault and her heart to swell with gratitude that Serena Campbell had actually chosen to be with her. Would Serena choose to make the ultimate commitment though? She began to rehearse what she might say, should Serena’s answer be “No.”  
“Why look so serious, Bernie?” Serena’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “You deserve a beer or even two. I’ll drive.”  
Two Morettis, A San Pellegrino mineral water, a strong coffee and a pannini each and their plans turned to the rest of the day.  
“Do you think the sea is warm enough to swim in,” asked Serena.  
“It’s still early in the year, even though the sun feels hot today it will take a while for the Adriatic to heat up. Though that shouldn’t deter an ex junior swimming champion! What else don’t I know about you, Ms Campbell?” Serena refrained from answering, instead saying.  
“Let’s go to the coast anyway. We can paddle if it’s too cold to swim.”  
#  
Being early in the season, the beach at San Giorgio was quiet. Bernie and Serena were able to find a secluded spot next to a small promontory. They spread raffia mats from the van on the sand. Bernie pulled off her polo shirt and shorts. “You still look amazing in a bikini,” Serena said. She herself was wearing a rather glamorous nineteen fifties style one piece which accentuated her curves. “I’m going into the water,” she declared. “Are you coming?”  
She uttered small squeals as the water crept up her stomach towards her waist. When she could bear the icy fingers no longer she ducked, submerging her shoulders until she gradually became accustomed to the cold water. Bernie meanwhile was paddling on the shoreline.  
“Come on in" Serena called, “Coward!” She felt rather pleased that this was one area of physical activity in which she was more confident than the amazing Major Wolfe. Bernie entered the water slowly, gritting her teeth to lest any exclamation of discomfort escape her lips. As the water reached her chest she dived under and swam swiftly and strongly towards Serena, grabbing her around her waist when she reached her.  
“Who did you call a coward,” she taunted, planting a salty kiss on Serena’s lips. Her hands slid down Serena’s body. “Trouble with a one piece, Ms Campbell is that one can’t get into it very easily.”  
“Whereas with a bikini,” said Serena huskily, hooking her thumbs over the top of Bernie’s bikini bottoms and pulling them slowly down, “I’m afraid you will just have to submit to my ministrations Ms Wolfe.”  
#  
“I must say, that was the most enjoyable swim I’ve had for a long time,” smirked Bernie as they waded hand in hand towards the beach. She glanced around to ensure that no-one was watching before slapping Serena on her rump.  
“I’ll pay you back in kind, later,” she said, with a wink. Serena ached with anticipation.  
#  
“Serena,” Bernie said as they lay side by side allowing the sun to dry their swim wear, “I’m worried about something.”  
“What are you worried about my love,” Serena asked, propping herself on her elbow so that she could gaze at Bernie.

“I promised you a candle lit dinner. That was rather stupid of me. I can’t cook and I don’t want you to have to cook your own celebratory dinner.”  
“Darling, how long have I known you? I’m not expecting cordon bleu. I’d happily eat beans on toast with you. However, as we are here in this rather lovely little town beside the sea, why don’t we find a campsite first, and then a very romantic restaurant?”  
Bernie pouted. “It won’t be very private!”  
“That doesn’t matter. We’ll eat first, light the candles later when we when we get back to the van. In fact I spotted a gelateria on the way. Let’s buy ice-cream and put it in the fridge freezing compartment. “  
“Oh yes,” replied Bernie with enthusiasm, “ice cream, Prosecco and bed, what could be better. So long as you say “Yes”, Serena, I couldn’t bear it if you turned me down after this build up.   
#  
They ate on the terrace of a sea food restaurant overlooking the Adriatic. Though the day had been warm, the evening was chilly once the sun had disappeared. Bernie wore a mohair jumper and Serena a cashmere cardigan against the chill. The smell of ozone mingled with the fumes from the patio heaters and the aroma of garlic and fish wafting from the kitchen. The food was simple and delicious.   
“Did you know,” asked Serena idly,”that over four hundred and fifty fish species live in the Adriatic?   
“Gosh, you’re knowledgeable,” said Bernie, impressed.   
“All those quiz shows I watched with Jason,” said Serena. “I wonder how he is getting on, and Greta and Guinevere, and Tom, of course.”  
“Ah yes, Tom,” said Bernie. “I’m sure he’s fine.”  
“I really didn’t mean to leave him with them for so long,” mused Serena. “It was only meant to be while I was in Nairobi, but then with everything being so uncertain, I thought it best to leave him be until was really settled. We didn’t really finish our conversation about the future did we?”  
“No. Why didn’t we?”  
“I rather think that it was the interruption of that wretched boy in his canoe.”  
“Kayak.”  
“Kayak, then, if you must be pedantic. You had just said that you were at your happiest when we ran AAU.”  
“I was.”  
“So was I. Neither of want to go back to working such long hours we don’t have time to enjoy being with each other do we?”  
“No, Serena, we’ve wasted too much time already.”  
“And we are agreed that we make a good team?”  
“Absolutely.”  
“Well that’s the solution. Why don’t we look around for a job share?”  
“That’s a brilliant idea Serena. Does that mean you are going to marry me?”   
Serena ignored Bernie’s last question and continued, “Of course, where we end up living permanently will depend upon where the job is, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Meanwhile I’ll suggest to Jason that he and Greta begin to plan a return to Greta’s flat now that the danger of Covid -19 is passed. I’ll have the house in Holby valued with a view to selling and we can start afresh in our very own home.”   
Bernie’s face clouded. “What’s the matter, darling?” asked Serena,” don’t you like that idea?”  
“Of course I do Serena. It’s a little awkward though. When everyone thought I was dead, Cam and Charlotte naturally inherited my cottage in the country. They sold it, obviously, and used the money to buy their own little flats. It seems cruel to expect them to sell up and pay me back.”  
“Of course you mustn’t do that. We’ll manage. What’s mine is yours.”  
“Including the cat?”  
“Definitely including the cat.”  
Replete they wandered hand in hand along the coastal footpath towards the campsite,   
oblivious to any interest they might arouse.  
#  
Back at the van, Bernie rummaged around in one of the drawers.  
“What are you looking for,” asked Serena.  
“Never you mind, just have a limoncello and listen to some music for a moment.   
Serena could hear Bernie searching through the outside locker. The noise eventually ceased and Bernie re-entered the van and to collect glasses, bowls, spoons and ice-cream.  
Eventually she reappeared and searched through her overhead locker.  
“What are you going to use that for?” Serena asked suggestively as Bernie produced a silk   
scarf. “I know you owe me something, but...” Bernie looked puzzled, then blushed faintly. Surely Serena wasn’t suggesting a touch of bondage?   
“No, it’s not what you are thinking,” she stammered, “But I would like to blindfold you.” She   
stood behind Serena and tied the scarf over her eyes.  
“Now come with me,” she ordered, taking Serena’s hand. She led Serena around the back of   
the van to where their pitch was shielded by a low hedge. There Bernie had set up the table, draped a bed sheet over it in lieu of a cloth and laid out bowls, ice-cream, Prosecco and glasses. Two candles burnt brightly in empty wine bottles.   
“Ta da...” cried Bernie, whipping off the blindfold. “Come and sit down. She ladled ice-cream   
into the bowls, poured Prosecco into the glasses, spooned ice-cream into Serena’s mouth.   
“Now, Serena Wendy Campbell,” she said, taking Serena’s hand, “will you please, please,   
please, marry me.”  
Serena snorted with laughter. “Of course I will,” she replied, her eyes twinkling partly with   
laughter and partly with unshed tears. “I’m sorry I have kept you waiting all day, but it has been fun, seeing you on tenterhooks all this time.”  
“Has it really only been a day,” Bernie said in wonderment. “It feels like an eternity.”  
“An eternity,” said Serena, “That’s very apt. You once said you would wait an eternity for   
me, do you remember?”  
“I do,” Bernie breathed.   
“Bernie Wolfe, I will love you until eternity,” Serena leaned forward and kissed her.   
“Now please pour us some of that Prosecco. I usually prefer a good Shiraz, but   
tonight I’ll make an exception. To us.” She raised her glass.  
“To us.” Bernie returned the toast.   
“There’s just one little problem Serena.”  
“What’s that?”  
“I detest cats.”

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a day of prevarication, Serena has accepted Bernie's proposal of marriage. The following morning there is a question Serena needs to ask and an issue which needs to be resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Thankyou for kudos left on Chapter 3 I have just re-read that chapter though and realised that only half of it was posted, apologies. It means that it ended very abruptly. Please re-read that chapter as without the end, this chapter doesn't make sense. Thanks. Hope you enjoy the continuation of Bernie and Serena's holiday.   
> This is just a short chapter while I am still in the Bernie and Serena zone, something to plug the gap before I send them home .

Serena stirred from slumber. Opening her eyes she became aware of a warm feeling of intense happiness. Then she recollected why. Less than twenty four hours ago Bernie Wolfe had proposed marriage and last night, after a day of prevarication, she Serena Campbell, had accepted. She raised herself on one elbow to gaze down at the still sleeping form of the woman she loved so much. A snatch of poetry came to her, “how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” Shakespeare perhaps? She bent and kissed Bernie’s lips. The fact that they were both naked from the previous night brought a smile to her lips. She searched around in the bed for her pyjamas, put them on, together with a hoodie and flip-flops and filled the kettle for the first coffee of the day before quietly sliding open the van door and padding over to the toilet block.  
A delicious aroma filled the van on her return. Bernie was awake and sitting cross-legged on the bed, coffee mug in her hand.  
“The coffee’s keeping hot in the pot,” she said. Serena poured out a mug for herself and joined Bernie on the bed.  
“Good morning darling,” she whispered to Bernie. “Hot and strong, just how I like it!”  
Bernie arched her eyebrows. “The coffee or me,” she replied huskily. 

Later they sat outside beneath the olive tree eating breakfast, which consisted of more coffee, peaches, brioche and jam. Bernie licked her sticky fingers, picked a blade of grass and wrapped it around Serena’s third finger, left hand.  
“Just for now,” she whispered, “until we get home.” Serena did likewise, and then looped the loose end around the circlet of grass on her own finger. She leant forward and kissed Bernie tenderly. “Now we really are tied together.”  
They sat contentedly for several minutes drinking in each other’s presence as well as coffee. Eventually Serena pulled away and the grass snapped. They had reached a point in their relationship where total honesty was needed and there was something she needed to know.  
“Bernie, last night you said that you detest cats.”  
“I do.”  
“But I heard that you adopted a stray cat in Basra.”  
“I most certainly did not. He adopted me. The mangy, flea bitten creature used to hang around the barracks. I felt sorry for him one evening and fed him and it became a regular occurrence. I expect he moved on to someone else as soon as I left. That’s cats for you. Fickle. Give me a dog any day. We always had one when I was growing up.”  
“ Dogs are so needy and time consuming. Cats are independent.”  
“Exactly. As I said, fickle. You’ve admitted yourself that Tom would be happy with anyone who fed him and allowed him to sleep on the bed whereas a dog is utterly loyal and trustworthy. A dog will never let you down.” Bernie gazed at her with dark, spaniel eyes. “Anyhow,” she continued, “how do you know I fed a cat in Basra? Did I write about it in my diary?  
“Alex told me.”  
“Alex! I didn’t realise that you had become friendly enough with Alex during my absence to enjoy gossiping about me.”  
“Don’t be silly, we weren’t gossiping. I met her at the barracks when I went to discuss the Nairobi position, and I happened to have Tom in the car.”  
Serena fell silent, wondering whether now was the right time to ask Bernie about Alex Dawson. She took a deep breath before saying carefully,  
“Bernie, as we have just become engaged and we are talking about loyalty and fickleness I have something to ask you.”  
A look of wariness appeared in Bernie’s eyes. Serena placed her hand reassuringly over Bernie's. She could see why Bernie empathized so with dogs. Even so, she had to know, one way or the other, the extent of Bernie’s loyalty.  
“Bernie, I am going to ask you something and I want you to answer honestly.”  
“Serena, you are worrying me. What do you want to know?”  
“Were you and Alex Dawson engaged to be married?”  
“No! Of course not. I love you, Serena, and only you.”  
“I know, darling, but at the time I’m speaking of you were under the impression that I didn’t love you.”  
“I never doubted that you loved me Serena, just not enough to make a life with me.”  
“Well we won’t go into all that again, there’s no need. I do think however that I need to apologise to you for not being totally honest.”  
“You and Alex?” Bernie sounded confused.  
“Yes. I mean no, most definitely not that. Something else. I didn’t relate the entire conversation I had with Alex when she brought your diary to the hospital after you were presumed dead. She told me that you called her the love of your life and that the pair of you were engaged to be married. Later, after her accident, she told me that she had lied, that she knew that I was always the love of your life, that she could never compete.”  
“She was right.”  
“However, she didn’t say she had lied about being engaged to you.”  
“Well obviously she did.”  
“No, not obviously, darling. People become engaged for all sorts of reasons, not always the right ones.”  
“Why are you asking me this now?” Bernie demanded. “You should have asked six months ago. You have clearly been brooding about this and doubting my commitment to you all along.” Bernie stood up and strode several paces away from the van.  
“Bernie, come here.” Serena had adopted her scary voice. Bernie was also aware of Serena’s voice carrying across the campsite. She went meekly back to Serena.  
“Sit down,” ordered Serena, gently but firmly. “I didn’t ask before because the answer might have been one I didn’t want to hear, and also I didn’t want you to feel you had to lie to protect my feelings.”  
“So what’s changed?” Bernie asked sulkily.  
“I really don’t mind what the answer is now. The past is the past. Any mistakes we’ve made, misunderstandings we’ve had, affairs with Robbie, Alex, it’s all water under the bridge. The only thing that matters now is the two of us. No more misunderstandings, no more secrets.”  
“I was never engaged to Alex,” Bernie said emphatically. “Yes, we hooked up together after you had sent me packing. I was lonely and miserable, Alex offered me comfort. But I knew by then that I had fallen out of love with her, more than that, whatever I had once felt for her wasn’t nearly as strong as the love I had, still have for you. I admit Alex did say more than once that we should make our relationship official when we got back to the UK but I never responded. I promise.”  
“I believe you, my love, though as I said, it wouldn’t matter one iota if you had. I just needed to have an answer otherwise I would be endlessly speculating.” She kissed Bernie.  
“There is just one other thing to settle,” she whispered into Bernie’s ear as she hugged her. “Since all good relationships thrive on compromise, I’ll strike a bargain. If you can be nice to Tom, I’ll consider allowing a sweet little puppy to join us when we eventually settle in our own home.”


End file.
